


Off the Press

by flightinflame



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: False Accusations, Fear of Discovery, M/M, News Media, Press and Tabloids, Protective Steve, References to Homophobia, Tony Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 13:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightinflame/pseuds/flightinflame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony's life is finally beginning to go the way he wants it to.  Then the press find out about him and Steve.  They are convinced that Captain America deserves better and Tony thinks he might have to agree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Off the Press

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TriffidsandCuckoos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriffidsandCuckoos/gifts).



> Warnings: mentions of homophobia and (unsubstantiated) accusations of blackmail.  
> Thanks to the wonderful Shadowhaloedangel for proofreading.

"Sir, may I recommend that you go to the bathroom?" Jarvis's voice cut through the air, stirring Tony from where he was resting, his head resting on Steve’s chest. He yawned, and glared up at the ceiling with eyes full of hatred.   
"It's too early."  
"Sir." Jarvis's voice bordered on concern, and Tony groaned, burying his head deeper into Steve's shoulder.

Steve wrapped his arms around him again, hand running down his spine.   
"Tony, your robots are worried."  
"He's not a robot..." Tony muttered against him, and Steve laughed, shoving him in the side. In the end Tony sighed, getting up and going to the bathroom.  
"What is it J?"

"This sir." Jarvis answered, projecting the headlines from the day's newspapers around him. Almost all of them were leading with photographs of Steve and Tony together in a park, their hands interlinked. They looked happy together, gazing into each other's eyes and smiling.   
It was a lovely photograph. It was just a shame about the headlines surrounding it. Claiming Stark Tower was a Den of Sin, claiming that Tony Stark was managing to seduce and corrupt even the famous American hero... It was clear that they didn't feel that it was right. That they knew Steve could do better, and that they were questioning everything about their relationship. Including, he noticed with a jolt, whether Tony might be blackmailing him.

"Thanks J." Tony muttered, staggering over to the chrome sink, resting against it and trying to support himself, feeling a little sick. He didn't mind the headlines himself. There was nothing in them that shocked him, nothing that he didn't feel was deserved. Well, the blackmail accusation was a low blow, but not unexpected. What mattered was that Steve would see these, and Steve would get hurt. With the kind of man Steve was, he'd probably get offended even when he shouldn't have been, picturing them as doing Tony a great disservice, falsely representing him, or however he wanted to say it. It'd probably lead to one of Steve's sudden Captain America moments, when he set out to right all the wrongs of the world one speech at a time.

The problem with that was that the rest of the team weren't as taken in by Tony as Steve was. They would know that it wasn't the truth, that Steve really did deserve better than Tony. They'd be on the side of the media, and they'd talk Steve into seeing things their way. Then it would be over, and there'd be no more lazy mornings, no more passionate kisses or shy smiles. No more nights where he designed and Steve drew, and it felt just for a moment like the arc reactor’s glow made him beautiful.

Tony poured himself a glass of water, swilling some around his mouth then spitting it out in an attempt to fight the nausea, beginning to sip it as he waved one hand to tell Jarvis to take the images down. He didn't want Steve to see them. He began to plan. He'd tell Steve his papers hadn't been delivered this morning, and then keep him busy the rest of the day. As for the constant hounding of the press, well, he could always claim it was an emergency conference, and hope that Doctor Doom or someone would cause a disaster at the same time. He’d try and hold the conference and Steve would be too busy hero-ing to look into it.

Looking at himself in the mirror, Tony couldn't ignore that his face looked haggard, pale. The headlines had got to him more than he would have expected, and the room felt like it was spinning. He had worked hard to get what he had, and he wouldn't lose it if he could help it. He knew that wishing for doombot attacks wasn't a healthy solution, but telling Steve was worse.

His head fell forwards so that his forehead pressed on the cold glass, and he breathed slowly.  
"Tony?" Steve called from the doorway, knocking and then coming inside. Tony glanced at the mirror and smiled to himself. Steve was just wearing a pair of white boxers, and his hair stuck up at odd angles after the previous night. He looked absolutely stunning. Tony shook his head. The papers were right. Tony was short, and scarred, and prone to panic attacks. Steve was perfect.  
"Tony, are you okay?" All-American innocence twisted in worry as he looked Tony over, noticed just how terrible he looked.

Steve approached him, one hand held out towards Tony’s own, but Tony didn't notice that. He was too busy with other concerns, trying to make sense of what was happening. He was a scientist, a mechanic. He liked it when his numbers would add up and make sense, but right now that wasn't what was happening with him and Steve. Steve could do better, but he was here, and it just didn't compute.   
"Yeh. Fine." He muttered, not really paying any attention.

"I don't believe you..." Steve's voice was gentle, and he buried his face against Tony's neck, hands resting on his hips. "Come on, you can tell me."  
"Don't worry about it Steve." He insisted, glaring. Steve backed away.   
"I'll go make breakfast." He promised, heading down to the kitchen.

"Jarvis, block any of these stories from Steve's searches, and tell him the papers haven't arrived yet." Tony murmured as soon as he was gone. He'd hide it from him. He could do that. He could hide it, and ...  
He shook his head, walking straight out of the bathroom, through his bedroom and to the elevator, heading straight down to the workshop. It'd be quiet there. He could work on something, block thoughts from his head and just relax. That was what he liked doing. He was good at making things. He'd make Steve some new throwing disks. They’d proven to be useful in some battles, so he’d make better ones.

He entered the workshop, trying to ignore that he was shaking a little, his fingers trembling like they did after a bad nightmare. He noticed the newspaper articles he had framed on the walls. They were old images, one from when he was very young, but they were special. Images of him with Stane’s hand on his shoulder (guiding, not controlling, not then), graduating MIT with Dummy in the background. A photograph of him helping his father with the roadster. Lie after lie about his relationship with his father, and with Stane, and now...well, these new titles wouldn't be joining them. These were too honest for him to treasure. He focused on the work he was doing, letting time pass.

He wasn't entirely sure what he was doing. He just needed to solder, to make something. It didn’t matter what as long as his hands were occupied. As long as he didn’t have to think.  
"Tony."   
The voice from behind him startled him and he turned around, looking at Steve. Steve gently eased the soldering gun from his fingers and put it to one side.   
"Tony... can you tell me what's wrong?"

Steve looked so concerned, so worried. He was a hero, that was it, he was trying to do the right thing. Tony knew that, but right now it didn't help. It just confirmed everything that he knew. Steve was an angel, and perfect, and Tony wasn't. Tony wasn't good enough. Steve might have been too naïve to realise yet, but soon he would.

"It's nothing..."  
Steve smiled sadly and shook his head, reaching for his hand.  
"Tony... breakfast's waiting. Come on. Kitchen.”  
"Thanks." He took his hand, heading up to the kitchen, and sitting together. Steve's foot brushed against Tony's under the table, and he was looking at him gently. His eyes were so trusting, so blue, like they always were. Tony gazed down at the table, trying to think of an adequate lie for his actions. In the past, he would have said nothing was wrong, but Steve wouldn’t let that pass and anyway he wanted him to have an answer. It just had to be a good lie.

"Jarvis told me the newspapers didn't get delivered today Tony..." Steve murmured, and his hand reached out for Tony's hand.  
"That happens. Sometimes. Must have happened back in your day too Steve. News boys on strike or similar."  
"Well, Jarvis's news feeds weren't working either." Steve prompted, and Tony shrugged.   
"He's got a bug? Coding error? I'll work on it as soon as possible."

"Yeh, I thought it could have been that..." Steve said gently, running his thumb over the back of Tony's hand, keeping him calm. "So I thought I'd look into it. Go for a walk..." He reached onto the chair beside him, pulling up a pile of newspapers which he spread at the table.

Tony looked at them in horror, seeing the photograph repeated again and again.  
"The Stark Truth" "Den of Sin" "American Values Betrayed". The letters screamed it at him. The air suddenly felt hot, and he couldn't breathe properly. All he could think about was how right these were. It felt like darkness was closing in, the air hard to breathe, and the room was spinning. He could taste dirty water at the back of his throat, smell the dust of the cave, the sheer emptiness of space.

"Tony. Tony, breathe...That’s it. In for three okay? One…Two…Three" Steve's voice gave him something to focus on, something that he could use. He tried to concentrate on the slow sound of Steve's counting, use it to calm his breathing once more. He held the breaths when Steve said, and waited for the room to come back into focus. Once it did, he found that Steve had swept the papers to the side.

"I..." Steve looked really nervous. "I'm sorry about that." He sighed. "I know you didn't want it to become public knowledge... I really am sorry that it got out." He was quiet, and Tony slowly realised that Steve wasn't on the same wavelength as him.   
"What's wrong Steve?"  
"I... I know you wanted to keep this quiet. I know I'm not... the kind of person you're normally linked to, that you want some degree of privacy after not getting it when you were younger. I get why you wanted to hide it from me, I know you could do better, I just-"  
"What?" Tony raised a hand, gazing at him in confusion. "I could do better? Steve, you've got it backwards. You could do better. You're Captain America." 

"I'm a guy from Brooklyn who is desperately in love with someone out of their league. " Steve murmured, and the line would have sounded cheesy if he wasn't so upset about it. Tony shook his head, leaning in to kiss his cheek.  
"You're being silly Steve. You aren't... I was worried you'd agree that I was a bad influence and you could do better...I was ..." He shrugged, not able to put it into words. All he could see was how worried Steve looked.

"I... thought you'd think it... This is your world Tony. This has been your world for a decade now, and I'm seven decades out..." He closed his eyes, and Tony's hand darted up to brush a thumb over his cheek, tilting his head up so that he was looking Steve in the eye.

"It's alright. It's our world. Us, the team..." Tony tried to order his thoughts, wondering how Steve could ever make passionate speeches look so simple.. Steve just nodded, twisting his head a little to kiss his thumb. 

"You weren't just trying to hide it from me so that I didn't get upset?" Steve asked, frowning a little, clearly ordering the last few thoughts into some semblance of an argument. Tony shook his head.  
"I was just worried you'd see them and think that they were right... And I knew you'd get offended at some of it."  
"Tony, I'm allowed to get offended if someone suggests that my boyfriend and I are together because he's blackmailing me." Steve sounded almost reproachful, but Tony felt something flutter in his chest at the use of the word "boyfriend" coming so naturally from his mouth.

"Yeh..." Tony answered, leaning in to kiss him.  
"We'll sort this out." Steve told him, looking so certain. Tony hesitated, then nodded.   
"What've you got in mind?"  
"People know now." Steve spoke softly, trying the words out in his mouth. "We should have a press conference. Put it out there in our words. Let people know that we're together. That you are happy with me... and that I am..." Colour began to creep up over Steve's face now. "I am hopelessly, desperately in love with you Tony. You are... you aren't perfect, but I love you. Not despite your flaws, but because of them..." He swallowed, ducking his head down, clearly embarrassed. 

Tony smiled to himself, knowing that Jarvis would have recorded that, and that he could watch it back later if he started to worry again. But for now, there was a supersoldier to console. He reached his other hand out, cocooning Steve's larger hand between two of his own.  
"A press conference sounds good. I'll screen all the questions, make sure that they're only asked by magazines we like. Maybe an exclusive of a couple of photographs for one of them. But we'll make it work Steve. Don't worry."

"Yeh..." Steve's voice shook for a moment, but he held it together, and his jaw was set with nervous determination. "We'll show them we're good enough for each other."

Tony nodded, smiling.   
"But Tony? Did you really think hiding the newspapers would work?"  
Tony bit his lip.   
"Would saying I forgot that you left the tower sound stupid?"  
"A little." Steve laughed, kissing Tony before he could dig himself any deeper into a hole.


End file.
